Page 19 of All I Want for Christmas Eve

“You’re good everything company,” I tell him, drawing circles on his chest.

He clears his throat. “I kind of really want to kiss you, Eve. Would that be—”

I don’t wait for him to finish before I lift myself up on my elbow and press my lips against his. His mouth softens against mine as he kisses back, lifting both his hands to my waist to reposition my body on top of his, until I find myself straddling his swollen heat.

Our kiss grows deeper and more intense as I place my hands in his hair, and his hands slide down to cup my bottom. His thin pajamas leave nothing to the imagination as I sit directly on his erection, and rub myself against him.

He groans at my motions. “Not so frozen anymore, are you?” he asks.

“Not even a little bit,” I respond, kissing his neck and nipping at his ear.

“Good,” he responds, pulling at the strings of my robe and sliding it off my shoulders.

I help him shrug it off, so that I am wearing just my nightgown. His hands go to my breasts at once, fondling and kneading them gently—like he definitely knows what to do with breasts. I moan as it begins to feel like there is molten lava running through my center, and pooling between my thighs.

“Take this off too,” he instructs, tugging at the neckline of my nightgown.

I slide it off my shoulders to reveal my naked chest, and he breathes in slowly, with appreciation.

“You’re perfect,” he says, before raising himself up so he can capture my breast in his mouth. And that’s pretty much it for me. The sensitive nerve endings are so overwhelmed with pleasure that my head tilts back, and I moan with abandon.

I am no longer capable of rational thought—I am lost in the sensations, and my whole body feels alive with need. I reach for the buttons of Adam’s pajamas, and begin fumbling with them madly as he sucks on my nipple.

“You taste so good,” he says with a groan, letting me take off his shirt before sliding a hand down into my panties. He rubs me gently through the fabric until I moan and press harder against his hand. Then he slips his hand inside my panties, and strokes his fingers across my opening and clit. “You’re so wet,” he whispers.

“Adam,” I say softly, as my hips move without my permission to seek more friction. He obediently begins to rub my sensitive nub, and my head rolls back again. I gasp softly at the pleasure. “Is your leg okay?” I whisper. “Will it cause you too much pain, if we…?”

“I’m fine,” he responds, kissing me hungrily while he slips a finger between my wet folds. He pulses his finger inside me, spreading my wetness around my clit in a teasing way. “Do you mind being on top?”

“I really… do not mind at all,” I say breathlessly, sliding my own hand into his pants to wrap my fist around his erection. “I want you so much.”

“Me too,” he says with a sharp intake of breath as I stroke him. “Oh my god, Eve.”

Hearing the pleasure in his voice makes me feel powerful. I feel like we are heating up this cabin more than the fireplace, and I wouldn’t be surprised if all the snow on the roof is melting.

“Oh, fuck my leg,” he says, pulling his hand out of my underwear and picking me up and tossing me down on the bed beside him. He slides off his pajama pants and boxers before positioning himself over top of me, and hiking up my nightgown. “Is this okay?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say, lifting my hips toward him and begging for it with my body. I wrap a leg around him. “Please—if you’re sure your leg doesn’t hurt too much.”

“This is worth the pain,” he assures me. “Do you have something?”

“What?” I say with confusion.

“Like maybe in your nightstand?”

I look over at my nightstand, confused about what that boring piece of furniture has to do with this gorgeous man who is on top of me, about to slide his gorgeous cock into me for endless amounts of pleasure. Then understanding pierces the brain fog of my arousal.

A condom. Shit. I don’t have a condom.

I turn back at Adam, and he is looking at me expectantly. I don’t really know what to say. My body is so hot and bothered and fired up that I can think of a lot of things to say, and none of them are anywhere close tostop.I just want to tell him to keep going. I want to suggest that he can pull out. But I’m all tongue tied. I am dragging his body closer to me with my leg, without really intending to, and I’m afraid that if I don’t say something soon, he’s just going to think I’m on the pill or something.

But then my phone rings.

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